


if my best isn't good enough

by stefonzolesky



Category: Arrested Development
Genre: M/M, i think i use the f slur just gonna issue a quick warning abt that, i'm terrible at writing chaptered fics, implied maeby/ann that may be expanded on later, tony and maeby are mlm/wlw solidarity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2019-06-08 04:22:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15235218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stefonzolesky/pseuds/stefonzolesky
Summary: Tony bites his tongue to keep from speaking.





	if my best isn't good enough

Tony feels like he’s in an elevator.

 

He’s always hated elevators. He feels singled out, like the world is moving without him.

His feet hit the ground with a thud, and pulls the mic off of his ear. It clatters to the ground, but he’s sure nobody will hear it over the shouts from outside the float.

The float parks at the end of the parade. Tony tries to forget that he heard Gob bail halfway through. That was his fault, and he knows it.

He has to crouch, because the space underneath the float is only so big, but Tony is used to travelling light.

Sally Sitwell collects him at the end, makes sure that nobody sees him.

“You humiliated him!” She says, once they’re in the car. “Did you see that? I mean, of course you didn’t, you were under the float. But that was fucking  _ golden!” _

Tony bites his tongue to keep from speaking.

 

There’s a shady motel a good ways from where Tony’s actual house is. Sally recommends that he stays there. The only thing it’s near is a senior center and an old Chinese buffet. 

 

In all honesty, he doesn’t know why he agreed to work with Sally on this. Maybe it has something to do with how she lent him a bunch of money to rebrand himself, but he doesn’t want to give it much thought. Thinking about it just makes him feel worse.

He stabs his fork into his orange chicken angrily.

Some kid had delivered it, and when Tony had opened the door, he had said, “Oh, you’re Tony Wonder! My dad--”

And Tony had cut him off by saying, “Thanks,” like a stuck-up moron and shutting the door. He immediately feels bad about it, though, and tells himself that has to count for something.

 

“Lay low,” Sally keeps telling him. “You have to lay low. And  _ don’t _ talk to Gob once you leave.”

Which is just the thing. For some reason, all Tony wants to do is talk to Gob. Every day he’s mere seconds away from dialing Gob’s number to apologize, or even answering his phone call rather than declining it.

 

One day, he actually ventures out of the house. It’s been weeks at this point.

A girl -- an older woman, or, she looks older, but Tony can’t really tell -- stops him at the buffet.

“You’re Tony Wonder,” She says.

Tony ducks his head, opening his mouth to say something, but she doesn’t let him.

“My uncle flaps his trap about you  _ constantly.” _

Tony frowns. “Oh. I’m sorry, how old are you?”

She raises an eyebrow. “How old do I  _ look?  _ You  _ do _ know it’s impolite to ask a lady her age.”

“Oh, right--” Tony starts to babble. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to--”

“I’m fucking with you,” She interrupts. “I’m trying to look old. I’m not old. My uncle says he knows you.”

“He--” Tony’s mouth runs dry. “Are you Gob’s niece?”

It’s a shot in the dark, and he doesn’t know why he asks, but she nods. “Yeah! Maeby.” She holds out a hand for him to shake. “He does not shut the fuck up about you. Though, he does keep referring to you in the past tense, which is strange.”

“Not really,” Tony tells her, but he doesn’t give her any further explanation. “And… your name is Maeby?”

“Yes,” She confirms. “Were you going to eat, or should I go?”

Tony steps aside. He realizes halfway down the street that he forgot to order.

 

He speaks to Maeby a few times over the course of the next couple months. He makes her swear not to tell Gob that he’s alive, she says that she hardly speaks to him anyway -- he’s just  _ loud _ . 

Tony confides that he finds Gob’s energy endearing. Maeby calls him a faggot, and then shows him pictures of her girlfriend -- a short, pale girl that Tony vaguely recognizes but can’t figure out why. It doesn’t irk him like it used to.

“I'd say you should meet her sometime,” Maeby says, “but most people don't really like her all that much.”

Tony makes a kind of 'hmph’ sound, and then asks the question that's been on his mind since he settled into the motel. “What does Gob say about me?”

Maeby sighs hard. “He just goes on, and on, and on. He thinks you’re dead. Sometimes, I wanna tell him you’re not just so he’ll  _ shut up.” _

“Don’t,” Tony says quickly.

Maeby rolls her eyes.

“Don’t worry, I won’t. You’re actually kind of bearable, unlike most of the people I talk to, so I don’t plan on fucking you over quite yet.” She kicks her leg off the bench they’re sitting on. Her phone buzzes.

“It’s my cousin,” She says, exasperated. “I gotta go.”

Tony nods a goodbye and finds himself, in that moment, hating Sally Sitwell more than he’s ever hated anyone before.

 

It’s another week of meeting up with Maeby before Tony decides, fuck it.

He shows up at the address Gob had given him for the Cinco that never happened and knocks on the door. The window in the middle of the door falls out and crashes to the ground.

“Hello?” A voice that definitely isn’t Gob rings out.

“Sorry!” Tony shouts in the direction of the voice. “I was just trying to knock on the door--”

“--piece of shit house,” the voice says, as the body it belongs to rounds a corner. He stops. “Tony Wonder?”

“I’m sorry?” Tony says. “And you are…?”

“Michael Bluth.” He extends a hand for Tony to shake. “My brother doesn’t ever shut up about you. He’s not here, though, if you’re looking for him -- also, I recall him mentioning that you’re dead? I did just chalk that up to him being Gob.”

Tony shakes Michael’s hand hesitantly. “You’re all over the place, huh? I thought Gob lived here.”

“He doesn’t,” Michael says. “Nobody really does. So, I guess, yeah. It’s kind of up for grabs, Gob has probably been squatting here.”

Tony frowns. “He doesn’t have a place to live?”

Michael shrugs. “He might. If he does, I don’t know where it is. If he said he’s staying here, he’s probably staying here. Or with some whore from the docks. There’s no telling.”

Tony silently fumes at that -- picturing Gob with some skinny twig of a bleach-blonde whore -- and sighs hard. “If he comes in, tell him I stopped by.”

Michael gives a solemn nod, one that could be perceived as confused if someone were to gauge reactions the way Tony does.

Tony nods back at him and turns on his heel with an (admittedly unnecessary) flourish.

 

Gob calls Tony that night. Tony, like an idiot, stares at his phone until it goes to voicemail.

 

_ “Hey, Tony. It's me again. Michael says that you stopped by the model home, but Michael also said that I was needed in Lindsay’s campaign but I wasn't so I don't know if I can trust him. If you were alive, you would tell me, right? There also would have been a funeral by now. I don't think they found a body so there's a possibility that you're alive, right? I don't think Michael would be that mean. Obviously, this is--” _

 

Tony lets out a heavy breath. He goes against everything he's been told since the parade, and dials up Gob’s number.

“Tony--”

“Listen.”

Tony can almost see Gob falter on the other end. He takes a deep breath, and continues.

“I’m really sorry,” He heads up with. “It’s just… There wasn’t a Cinco, and shit… shit  _ happened _ , alright? I wanted to call you sooner, I really did. It just wasn’t safe.”

“You…” Gob sighs. “You could have told me you were alive, at least. I’m not  _ that _ much of a liability, at least,” and then he fades into mumbles.

“I’m sorry?” Tony asks.

“At least, I don’t think I am. Even if my family does. Al doesn’t think so, either, so-- So-- So--”

“Gob,” Tony interrupts. “I know. I’m sorry. Sally’s gonna have my hide if she finds out I called you even now. You can’t tell anyone, okay?”

Gob hesitates. “Okay.”

“I'll…” Tony frowns. “I'll try and make time for you. Somehow.”

**Author's Note:**

> i'm sorry i'm so bad at writing chaptered fics but i thought i should give it another shot so here we are


End file.
